


/you wake up at... (tap out)

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Fight Club (1999), Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bondage, Dacryphilia, Drugged Sex, Emetophilia, Gang Rape, Gore, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Denial, POV First Person, Rimming, Sounding, Violence, Watersports, Wound Fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-05-28 07:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19389058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: Everything goes wrong.





	/you wake up at... (tap out)

**Author's Note:**

> i was just kicking this idea around in my head for awhile
> 
> if you also read the billyboy fic /enko girl and you enjoyed that, you'll probly like this too

You wake up at LAX.

You wake up at SeaTac. 

You wake up at Fight Club with your arms tied together.

This is how it started.

You wake up drugged, full of muscle relaxants, making you unable to so much as move. You wake up with no pants on, only a shirt and underwear. You wake up with your bowels voided from an enema that you don't remember taking. You wake up with dried piss stains on your briefs. You wake up with breath on your spine, leaving vapor where it lands on skin. You wake up at Fight Club with your arms tied together.

I felt sick.

"I admire what you're doing here, sir." Nothing but shaven space monkeys all around. They had me on a table, with a mirror just in front, and my arms tied behind my back. Flat on my belly, ready to die. My face was bruised. That little pucker in my cheek had no signs of healing.

I tried to ask what the fuck is happening. It was all mush.

"You said you'd let us fuck you, Mr. Durden."

I said, I'm not Tyler Durden. I'm not. That's not who I am. They ignored me. "You said sexual frustration is the peak problem of male society, and you're right. Thank you for giving up your body to the cause, sir." I tried to move off the table. I couldn't. "Some of the strongest stuff on the market." I heard belts clicking and zippers opening. I yelped. I said I'm not Tyler Durden. "You told us you'd say that. You'd definitely say that."

My piss-stained underwear fell around my ankles. I tried to move. Not possible. Not happening. I tried to go into my cave, with the ice and the penguins and the cool air. The cool air on my ass, my bare-naked ass. I said, I don't wanna do this, I'm not Tyler Durden.

"You're built like a woman, sir."

Something felt wrong. I tried to crane my neck, to see what was happening. I felt wrong. My ass felt wrong. Wet. I asked, what the fuck are you doing? They wouldn't tell me anything. It felt like there were slugs crawling inside of me. Big, wet slugs. I breathed really loudly. 

I breathed. 

Are you licking my ass?

"It's a practice called 'rimming', sir."

Get your fucking mouth off of me.

"He's getting hard."

The monkeys all gasped. They leaned in really close behind me. "Mr. Durden's cock is incredible," I kept hearing, "Mr. Durden's cock is beautiful." They put their fucking hands on it. I tried to wrench myself out of their grips, to no avail. Don't touch me, I said. Don't fucking touch me. Don't you dare. One of them wrapped a had around my dick and began jerking me off, with a wet, sweaty palm. I screamed at them.

Don't touch me! Don't touch me!

"It pulsates with life." One of the monkeys stated. The others all repeated. "It pulsates with life." I wished someone could hear me in that fucking basement. I prayed that Marla would come in, (always uninvited, never knocking,) and she'd shoo these freaks away. I prayed to nobody in particular.

"He's crying." Someone had come around the front. I guess I didn't realize it, that I was crying. But I had the right to cry, I think. The big, meaty lug before me patted my cheek. "Just like he said he would. When do you think that weird Cambodian shit should kick in?" I blinked. I asked, what are you talking about? I asked him through teary, drippy eyes and faucet nose. "This sex drug they use on Asian hookers. We bought that off of your one friend. What was her name?"

"The lesbian?" One of the other monkeys answered. "Her name was Dom."

I said, I don't know anyone named Dom. The monkeys laughed. 

"Anyway, we haven't given him any yet. Shit's so strong that he'd pop a boner immediately."

"I've heard some girls get addicted to it."

"I think it's probably cut with something. Why don't we do that now?"

I trembled. I didn't want them to drug me with this suspicious shit that Tyler bought. Not to mention from some woman I'd never heard of. Some weird powder they used to quiet Cambodian prostitutes for sale, that the kid with the angel face held in a big rubber dishwashing glove. I howled. Stop, stop it immediately, right now, I'm your fucking commander and I'm telling you to put that shit away and untie me, and you're gonna sit there with your hands behind your fucking back until this numbing agent shit wears off and I get up and leave.

"How do we administer this?"

I was ignored.

"I think he just has to sniff it."

"Alright, someone cover his mouth."

I felt a grimy palm over my lips. I was yelling through it, it tasted of dirt, sawdust, a little bit of orange juice, and soap, and human fat in little plastic bags. A little glass jar full of white powder held up to my nose. I tried to breathe through my mouth. Not possible. They were just waiting for me to give up, it was a momentary stalemate. I was in the losing position. My chest tightened, head spun, I breathed accidentally. It puffed into my face even more when I involuntarily sneezed. The monkeys in the back, they returned to playing around with my dick. Another cloud of white dust entered my head. Another and another. I was starting to feel hot.

I cried out. Please help me, help, these people are insane. 

Suddenly the weight of my shirt on my body was too much. I sobbed. Please! Someone!

I felt hands all over my body, running up my shirt and all over my legs. I whimpered, I felt like I was burning from the inside. Hands all over, grabbing my thighs and flicking over my dick and smacking my ass with these loud, echoing slaps that hurt my ears.

"Bad boy, Mr. Durden!" They all laughed, laying another hit on my butt. I shrieked and my whole world went white. When I came to, there was silence.

"He came." They all 'oo'ed and 'ahh'd, fingers fluttered over my cock. "What's it taste like?" I grimaced. I yelled at them. Don't fucking eat my cum, you freaks! Don't fucking do that! "What's it taste like, man?"

"It's gross."

They laughed. I could feel something wet on my asshole. 

Are you licking down there again?

"Self-lubricating."

Did you fucking rub my-

"Yeah, it's jizz." Hands were pressed on my ass cheeks, groping at them, I wanted to push out another wad of cum almost immediately. "Woah woah, his balls are reeling up again." They all took their hands off. I whined. They couldn't even let me have an orgasm. I wasn't sure if I wanted one, if I wanted to wallow in the shame of reaching orgasm from being felt up like a porn star. "Hey, you keep bobby pins, right?"

"Yeah." One of the monkeys said. There was a bit of a mumble. I tried to listen in, but my head was pounding with blood. I begged them to let me go, I wouldn't tell anyone. I wouldn't tell the cops, or Marla, or anyone else important. "Brace yourself, sir."

I failed to do so in time.

There was a burning inside my dick. Not the sexual, aroused kind. No, it was pain. It was a stabbing, scorching pain. I screamed out and writhed. I told them to stop. Stop, stop, stop, I don't know what you're doing, but please. My erection hurt, it endlessly hurt. I screamed and screamed and the pain wouldn't go away. I couldn't move away from it, couldn't move anywhere, they all went back to feeling me up.

"Plugged him up good."

They put a bobby pin in my urethra.

Now I couldn't cum.

I was begging. I was easy. I said I'm not Tyler, I promise I won't say a thing, please, help me. I said it because I'm not Tyler Durden. It only took one look at me, pleading and sobbing, to realize we're not the same person. I knew this was Tyler's fault, though, I knew he just wanted to see me squirm. To hit bottom. What better way than to let my own underlings capture me without my personal awareness? I was a fool to fall asleep, to give Tyler the reigns, to lay in bed under the assumption that things would be okay. They wouldn't even touch my penis, but every feeling went straight to it, as an electric current would. 

I felt a sense of rejection from the world as I tried to recede into nothingness. Everything was going wrong, was being wrong, and I had been a good person, hadn't I? Well, not exactly good. I'd just been a person. Surely there were rapists and murderers who deserved this more than I had.

Three months ago, I'd wanted Tyler to be my first man. I'd never done it with a man. But I now knew it was impossible. Having sex with Tyler Durden would be simple masturbation, with a finger stuck in my asshole. There's nothing romantic about that, nothing poetic or beautiful like I'd imagined in my late-night fantasies that were juxtaposed with disgusting pictures of Marla Singer's naked body. The way she sprawled on my bed like a dead roach, it made me want to puke.

"Anyone wanna take his mouth?"

I froze.

No, uh, I don't really know if I can do that. What if I choke?

The mirror before me betrayed me with my own image. A hot, red, tear-stained face looked back at me. A terrified face. The face of someone I always like to pretend I've never seen before, because it was me, just more pathetic and frightened. Then, it was blocked by a body. One of the bigger monkeys. His clothed erection pressed against my cheek, the one where the little hole still lived, oozing goo from half-opened scabs.

I'm not Tyler Durden, I sobbed, I could never be. I'm not good enough.

"Oh, don't worry, sir. We're all shit."

In unison, they said,

"We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."

I begged them not to say it.

"We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."

I shrieked at them, don't say that.

"WE ARE THE ALL-SINGING, ALL-DANCING CRAP OF THE WORLD."

The monkey's dick smelled of the brown sugar soap we'd been selling in bulk. His cock was covered in liposuction fat. He pressed it against my face and I shook my head. Even though the feeling of his penis against my face was sending explosive charges downwards, I shook my head. He grabbed my sweat-greased hair, tearing open every single root, tears crawling down my face as he did, but I shook my head.

"You know," the monkey spoke, "why'd you even ask us to do this if you were gonna be so pissy about it?"

"I like when you play hard-to-get, sir." The kid with the angel face talked to me. He grabbed a fistful of my ass, and I tried desperately to shoot a wad into the floor, to no avail. I wanted to hide in my room and masturbate. I wanted to be weak, and I wanted to do it by myself. Not while everyone was watching.

"Hold on." The monkey in front of me grabbed my head. Suddenly his fingers dug into the hole in the side of my face. Immediately I knew where this was going. I shouted 'no' over and over, like it was the only word I knew. But it was too late. The overwhelming sensation turned my begging into whimpering, and I had this feeling like I hadn't pissed in weeks and I was desperate to be empty. I wanted that pin out.

The sound of ripping flesh.

Another high-pitched shriek from my torn-up mouth, which had been ripped into half of a Joker-esque grin. His cock slid against the bloody meat flaps. "Teeth, sir, teeth." The wrench they used was far too big. I could taste the metal in my mouth, and I cried to him.

Please don't pull my teeth out.

One of them cracked and shattered under the pressure, and I felt sick with pain and arousal. Blood spurted from the cavity it left. My stomach flipped as the monkey pried my teeth apart and slid his dick between the gooey folds of my cheek. I tried to close my jaws. Another cracked tooth was like a gunshot to the head, and I was all sorts of overstimulated with the other Project Mayhem freaks still touching all over my ass.

His cock tasted like soap, too. Brown sugar soap. I coughed and snorted, snot dribbling from my nose. Snot and blood. _My face_ , I wanted to say, _you've fucking deformed me_. But it all came out as auh-ah-augh-auh. Drool pooled under my chin, with little red droplets in it.

"How does he feel?" One of the monkeys asked.

"Terrible. You're awful at it. Try harder."

I got a fist to the side of my head, right in the temple where stars began flying out into my eyes. A throbbing feeling ran through my brain. I was sobbing like a baby, I just wanted to curl up in bed, or in someone's arms. I wanted to go away and be a little pussy for awhile, and masturbate and cry, and I didn't want anyone to know about it. My mouth was invaded, salted pre hitting the back of my tongue, and I wanted to throw up. I wanted anything but to be there, at Fight Club. The place that was once my safehaven now suddenly felt disgusting.

"I want in his ass first." The kid with the angel face was dropping his pants. Instinctively I felt my ass stick up a bit, inviting him in. "You're excited, huh?" He was spreading something on my dick, I wasn't really sure what. Probably some kind of lube. (Motor oil, I would later discover.) He slapped his dick between my cheeks, and I must have ground my teeth down a bit because the guy in my mouth shouted and punched my temple again. This one sprung with red, which trickled down the side of my jawbone and into my torn mouth. I gagged and gurgled, trying to tug my teeth as far back as they'd go. My throat was twisting around his cock. I could feel it.

The angel face kid put his tip in. I howled and bit down. The monkey in front screamed and pulled out. Then he grabbed my hair and slammed my head on the table. I could distantly hear myself crying out, so distantly. He did it again. Thwack. I was full-on sobbing with a bleeding forehead.

I'm sorry, I said. I'm so sorry.

The kid with the angel face tore through me, and I burned on the inside. The monkey in front mumbled about how bad I was. I said I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I hurt, but I felt good, the angel face kid was planting little, chaste kisses on my back as he thrust into me. I could hear slapping sounds. Masturbation. Soon enough my business shirt would be caked in semen, they'd paint it all over my body. I would never be able to wash it out.

"Do you like that?" The angel face kid grab-assed me as he pounded into my limp body. I couldn't see my face well anymore, but I must've looked an awful wreck. He was rubbing my back. I felt horror. I wanted him to stop being nice, doing minor, kind things, I couldn't take it.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please. 

He came inside me pretty fast. I could feel every bit of it, it was warm and took up too much space. Immediately someone else replaced him and broke through further, tapping into the magma settling in my core. My dick burned, it burned and burned and burned. I just kept saying it. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. A cumshot landed on my face, sticking in my hair and dripping over my bruised eyes. It smelled like mold.

And in my sickened, shaking head, I had an idea, somehow.

I yelled,

Stop! I tap out!

"Huh?"

I tap out.

They all stared. I was weeping and a complete mess. 

"He's right." The kid with the angel face said. "...It's no better than a fight unless you do it in missionary."

No, I said, that's not what I meant!

Ignored. The monkey inside me grabbed my shoulders and flipped me over. My tied hands were trapped under my back. They all laughed a bit amongst themselves. "Gotten a li'l soft, haven't you, sir?" They pinched the fat of my stomach and tore open my shirt. Their nails scraped on my nipples, the kid with the angel face was sucking hickeys into my collarbone. I was moaning like a porn star, and crying like a kid who just learned both his parents died in a horrible car accident. 

I tap out! 

I screamed, as I was ripped through, I felt like my stomach was being penetrated. I felt like there was bile pouring into my abdominal cavity. They were kissing the tears off of my cheeks, while the bigger, more hard-headed ones silently jerked off around me, the small monkeys got close and kissed me. They kissed me like they loved me. They _loved_ me.

When I tipped my head back, I could see him in the mirror. Tyler Durden. He was smoking a cigarette.

"Feel good?"

I got the shakes, all over my body. A third monkey was going inside of me and a few others were finishing over me, smearing their cum on my chest and stomach. I wanted him to help me, but I knew he couldn't. Tyler could only help me help myself. This was out of our control. 

"Just let go." He said, flicking a bit of ash from his cigarette. "Just let go and it'll feel so much better."

I couldn't. I wouldn't let go.

"You're fucking pathetic, look at you. Look at yourself."

I couldn't focus, either. I wouldn't focus.

"Fine."

The world went black.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I was in the same place. Still at Fight Club, still with my arms tied together.

You wake up in the same place.

I was surrounded by satisfied expressions. Dry cum stuck to my skin and I felt uncomfortably full.

"That was amazing, sir."

I realized Tyler took over. I realized they all fucked me without my consciousness. I realized they all fucked me with _his_ consciousness. I couldn't make myself say anything. When I opened my mouth, vomit spurted from it, all over my chest. When I looked at it, it was watery, with spots of white and red. "You've been good, sir." The kid with the angel face grabbed my still-hard dick and ripped the bobby pin from it.

Immediately sensation ran over all thought. My back arched, muscles spasmed. I came. I came like I'd never cum before in my life. I was yowling and screeching into the wide open ceiling. I felt like it went on forever. Like I was being electrocuted to death.

When I finally ran out, I pissed myself. Uncontrollably. It came out right after I came, I pissed myself on the floor. I was still high, but more than anything, I was exhausted. They untied my arms and even helped me to my feet, watching in awe as I continued to piss for what may very well have been years. I leaned on one of the monkeys' big, burly arms, and I pissed on his shoe, and I could barely stand upright.

"Oh, sir." Another kiss on the back of my neck. The big space monkey lifted me into a bridal carry.

Where's Tyler, I asked. They all laughed.

"First rule of Project Mayhem, sir."

You wake up in a bathtub with the angel face kid gently soaping your hair. You're surrounded by warm water. He makes remarks about all the puke and cum that got stuck to you, and you feel sick, like you want to sink into the bathtub. He jokes about how you were jerking off in the tub, leaving pearly-white globs on the surface of the water. You wish you would drown, but nothing ever goes right for you.

You wake up in your bed, with a few of the space monkeys dragging you into some clean underwear and a shirt. They even give you an extra blanket. You can feel the last vestiges of human sperm dribbling into the boxer shorts you put on and you sob at them.

You sleep for real this time.


End file.
